The Cost of Liberty
by N-Badger97
Summary: It's 1876, and the Unova Region is still recovering from a bloody civil war. While progress has been made, the echoes of hatred from the past still linger. A loose novelization of Pokémon: Black and White. Rated M for the use of strong language and explicit violence. Not sure about pairings yet. PM me if you want to see any.
1. Prologue

**Hello! N-Badger97 speaking. If your reading this, then you've obviously have stumbled upon this story here. Before you go on, I'll like to give a more in depth summary so you can decide of this fic will interest you or not. This is a loose novelization of Pokémon: Black and White. It will be set in 1876 during the Reconstruction Era, and I will put my own twist on all of the characters. Please note this story will contain explicit violence, adult themes, vulgar swearing, and the biggest one in this story, explicit racial slurs. Racial slurs will be used in this story to keep the authenticity of the era, and plot of the story. I do not by any means advocate any of you to use racial slurs, but if you do...then you deserve the ass kicking you'll get when someone hears you. Also note that some of the views expressed by certain characters in this fanfiction are not necessarily my own. This story is not meant to offend, it exists merely to entertain. However, if you still find this story to be vulgar or just hate it in general, then please feel free to leave your opinion via PM or the review section. If you like this story, then give 'ol N-Badger's story a follow, favorite, or review. Better yet, how bout all three!**

**This story is not connected to my story, or any other story. It has it's own universe **

**Alright everyone, get ready for Pokémon: Black and White, N-Badger97 style!**

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><p><em>It is the growing custom to narrow control, concentrate power, disregard and disfranchise the public; and assuming that certain powers by divine right of money-raising or by sheer assumption, have the power to do as they think best without consulting the wisdom of mankind.<em>

_-W.E.B Du Bois_

**Prologue**

In the year 1776, the unitied cities of the Unova Region won their independence from the imperialists in the Fiore Region after a long bloody conflict known around the world as the Unovian Revolution. After the signing of the Proclamation of Sovereignty, the Unova cities were officially independent, but they still had a long bloody road filled with anguish, destruction, and bullets to be fully free from the Fiore Region. After help from the Kalos Region, the Unovian Rebels were finally able to oust Fiore's redcoats from the land in the year 1781, at the Battle of Castelia City, and the subsequent Treaty of Lumiose City, the conflict ended. During the following years, the newly free region started to exercise its newly found independence, and become a player on the world stage. Of course, it was not without its problems.

Once the Unovians were independent, they drafted what they called The Articles of Confederation. This document outlined what kind of government would the Unova Region be under. It gave little power to the federal government, and much to the individual cities, for the people did not want a centralized power after fighting for their freedom from the tyranny of the Fiore Region. However, the problems of this form of government soon arose. There was no national currency, rather separate city currencies which made intercity trade difficult, especially with the tariffs the cities placed on each other. The federal government had no power to fix the situation. They had no president, no national court, the inability to place taxes, and could not have a true professional army. As these problems arose and became a reality (shown during Shay's Rebellion), the feds decided to draft the Unovian Constitution that would create separate branches of the federal government (Executive Legislative, and Judicial) to govern the region. This brought an outcry of resentment between what would soon be called anti-federalist who feared they would only be creating another tyranny by centralizing power to the federal government. The anti-federalist were challenged by federalist who champiomed the Constitution as a way to save the young region-nation from collapse. To quell anti-federalist sentiments, the feds created the Bill of Rights, a set of laws for the federal government to abide by. With this created, the Constitution was drafted, and Unova started to get back on its feet.

Soon, the Unovians got themselves embroiled with another conflict with the Fiore Region over the impressment of Unovian sailors, and the Fiore's support of natives to the Unova Region raiding urban Unovian settlements. That conflicted lasted two years and eight months, but did bring with it a surge of Unovian patriotism among the Unovians. However, this patriotism did not help to close the rift between the growing sense of sectionalism between the different areas of the region, such as the industrial south, and the rural cotton and crop based north. The major factors for this feeling of loyalty to one's area in Unova was the social, financial, and political differneces between the two areas. As of most social problems, these were deeply rooted in the politics of the era. Ever since their independence, the two great sections of Unova had been at each other's throats. This was shown by the argument between on tariffs. Rural northern Unovians argued that the federal government's tariffs on other regions meant that they had to pay more for imports, since they had a small manufacturing industry, and that they were playing favorites by only trying to protect the industry based south's interests. Further strain amongst the areas was heightened by the institution of slavery. At first, the problem was mainly how the slaves would be counted regarding a state's population. This was a problem because if slaves were counted, they would give more power to the northern cities in the House of Representatives. The Three Fifths Compromise in which the slave would be counted as three fifths of a person solvedthe problem for the time being, but it would not help the growing resentment between South and North in the long run.

By the 1850s, the situation was the rural northern cities and Towns (Lacunosa Town, Opelucid City, Mistralton City, Driftveil City, Icirrus City, Undella Town, and Humilau City) supported by their vast crops, king cotton, and slave labor locked in a political and financial confrontation with the industrial southern cities and towns (Nuvema Town, Accumula Town, Striaton City, Nacrene City, Castelia City, and Nimbasa City) who relied on manufacturing and business. The battleground for their resentment mainly restricted to the floors of Congress as increasingly rude banter erupted between the Senate and House of Representatives. While there was no real violence, the eruption of bloodshed was soon to engulf the nation-region. As more and more southerners began to cry out against the institution of slavery, it became ever increasing in political debate. The northerners began to see this as an attack on their way of life, and tensions were being stretched to their breaking point.

The breaking point was the induction of three new cities and towns (Floccesty Town, Virbank City, and Aspertia City). The debate to whether these cities and towns would be slave or free states became a major political debate. If either side got two, they would have an advantage in the House of Representatives and Senate. This rage filled debate would soon spiral out of control. With the election of Abraham Lincoln for president in the 1860 election, the northern cities and towns would secede from the Union. Following this was a series of events that would lead the nation-region to a bloody four year civil war that would change the political, social, and financial landscape of Unova for decades to come, but it would also be the birth of an organization that would threaten Unova's very existence in years to come...

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><p><span><em><strong>The Battle for The Driftveil Drawbridge<strong>_

_**September 12, 1862**_

On the shores of the Unovian Sea, Driftveil side, rested a massive federal army dressed in blue, and armed to the teeth with rifles, pistols, artillery...the likes. Tents littered the landscape, resting in an uneasy tension underneath the cloudy coastal skies. All was quiet, save for the Swanna flying overhead, singing a beautifully sweet song that acted as maple syrup to the ears. No matter how pleasant, it did not change the feeling of fear and dread that permeated the camp, none more then the command tent situated in the middle of the massive federal encampment. Inside the dark stuffy tent lit only by candles sat a large six foot man with skin tanned from a year of campaigning against the northern rebels. His hair wild and red, was covered by a wide brimmed Union officer hat. His muscular body was wrapped in the symbol of the Union Army leadership, an elegant dark blue buttoned uniform that went down to his thighs and covered a small portion of his blue military pants, complete with yellow epaulettes on each shoulder to denote his authority. On his hands were thick white gloves that went up part of his arm. On his feet, black boots smudged and dirtied from the mud of the wet Driftveil ground. Hovering next to him was a large moth-like pokemon with four small feet with a sort of wild white fuzz that covered his upper body, but did not hide his abdomen that was black in the center, and blue with black dots on the outside. His most prominent feature was his six large leaf like wings that were a beautiful shade of dark orange.

This pokemon was known as a Volcarona, it was a fire/bug type pokemon that was considered to be extremely rare and powerful. However, to Colonel Alder Royce, he was his friend. He had known the large pokemon since they were both young. Now it was his brother in arms, like the men under his command outside, and like the men under Alder's command, Volcarona had noticed something change in his friend. In the beginning of this great conflict, Alder was tough, flamboyant, and optimistic. Local girls in his homecity of Castelia City (the great city of trade and industry, and the Union's greatest asset) were always over him, wanting his affection and attention. Of course Alder declined, saving his love for his future wife, however that may be. When the north seceded, Alder joined the Union Army to restore the country he loved so dearly. His personal mantra was Abraham Lincoln's words "A house divided against itself cannot stand."

After performing well in his training, as well as having a knack for people to love him with his charismatic disposition, he was quickly promoted to being an officer in the Castelia City Calvary; the Castelia City 69th Riders of the Storm Regiment **(The Doors reference)**. When he first went into battle, which would latter be known as the First Battle of Bouffalant Run, he was proud courageous, and eager to fight for his country against the 'traitorous' rebels. He believed like many southerners that this would be a swift conflict that ended with a total Union victory after they took over the Confederate capital of Opelucid City. He, and the rest of the southerners could not have been more wrong. It had been July 21st 1861; he could still remember sitting on his war Zebstrika, rifle in his hands, the patriotic _Battle Hymn of the Republic_ in his ears, and the magnificent blue uniform of the Union Army covering his body as the warm summer air blew through the hair resting on his ears. They had marched past Route 6 and Mistralton City without incident, some of the soldiers even started to say that the little conflict would end that very day without a bullet being fired. Hopes were hight, as well as spirit as they marched on into Route 7. This Route was a narrow and twisting route filled with tall grass that grew up to one's head in certain places. The recent summer rains had left the ground muddy and hard to travel through. No one took into account the horrible tactical choice of leading a large army through a route like this, but the commanders were confident the northerners had no fighting spirit. They pressed on.

It was quiet, the only noise coming from the soldiers talking and laughing. However, their war pokemon (Zebstrika, Haxorus, Fraxure, etc), and the rest of the wild pokemon that should have been in that lush route making noise, were quiet as well. All the warning signs were there, yet the attack happened almost out of nowhere. One minute all was quiet, almost peaceful, and the next_** BOOM!** _

All hell broke loose.

The peace was shattered with the unwelcoming blast of a cannon. That first cannon blast was followed by an explosion as the projectile slammed into the left column of the marching army. The soldiers, including Alder himself were all taken off guard, and broke their formations, scattering across the route looking for the origin of the blast. They had no time to find it because the whole route was shaken by the shrill shriek of the rebels; the rebel yell, passed down to the Confederate boys by the native Unovians. Alder would never forget that yell, it shook you to your very core, and stained itself into your memory. However, no memory could compare to being there to hear it yourself in all it's intensity, the powerful screech of rage and patriotism from the young strong lungs of the Confederate rebels hiding in the underbrush. As the federal troops finally got a hold of themselves, they were meet by two more volleys of cannon fire that tore into the feds, dismembering limbs, and bloodying the surrounding ground and grass with southern blood. Once again, the feds tried to regroup to regain their strength to mount a counter attack, but the possibility was ridiculous. They were fighting an enemy hiding in the shadows, using guerrilla tactics against them.

Now the bullets started to fly. From each side, mini balls flew into the body's of unsuspecting Union troops. .58s from Model 1855 rifles, .56s from Colt revolving rifles, and even .36s from Colt Navy Revolvers. Blood splattered everywhere, belonging to both human and pokemon. The dead lay on the ground, some intact, some missing limbs, others completely obliterated, but they all had the same dead, lifeless eyes. The screaming wounded cried out for medics, their god, and their mothers as they lied on the ground around the twitching bodies of their fellow brothers, and the pokemon comrades that went into battle with them. They tried to stop the blood from flowing out from their leaking wounds, but little did they know that the germs entering their wounds would latter kill them. As Alder looked back and forth, in shock and disbelief at the hell going on around him, the Zebstrika he was riding on shrieked as a .58 tore into his jaw, removing it from his face as he toppled over twitching to death. Alder fell with a damaging thud. He tried to get up, but it appeared he had hurt his legs and back in the fall. He tried to lift himself up with his rifle, but it was to no avail. Unknown to him at the time, it was better he didn't, for the ability to get up would probably put him in the line of fire and resulted in his death. All he could do was watch as his brothers fell left and right. Their fear and instincts of self preservation made them fight harder, but it was to no avail. Then the rebel's shrieked once more, followed by their anthem _To Arms in Dixie_, and they made their charge out of the underbrush. Their bayonets and swords glistened as they and their war Haxoruses ran into the sea of blue, slashing and slicing at the feds. The storm of gray overwhelmed the sea of blue, until the surge of red blood overwhelmed them all.

Alder then fainted...

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><p>Alder would never forget that day. He remembered waking up in a Union medical tent, his eyes greeted by the anguished cries of the wounded as they had their legs or arms amputated, the only thing holding back some of the pain was some whiskey and something to bite on. He was lucky, he had only suffered a broken femur, and a badly bruised back. He would recover, and be put back into service, but after the First Battle of Bouffalant Run, he was a changed man. Seeing the hooros of war first hand; his friends being slaughtered, and he being helpless to fight with them. It was a grim reality. This war would not be over quickly. This war was going to be a long drawn out campaign pitting brother against brother, for the rebels they fought were their fellow country men. Their was no enemy blood to be spilled in this war, only the blood of Unovians.<p>

After many more battles, Alder had become truly disillusioned. The whole war made no sense to him anymore. The only thing that made sense was his orders, and his orders were to press on, no matter what the casualties were, or how great. They always had more young able bodies to replace the fallen in this war of attrition. During the next year, the soldiers he once saw as brothers, were nothing but tools to complete his objectives. It was not because he was cold blooded, but the only way to keep sane was to see this young man as nothing but disposable tools. Close relationships with his men only meant heartbreak when they were killed, which would ultimately happen. The only friend he had left after he had grown cold to his men, and they did the same, was Volcarona.

But for now, he had a job to do, and that was to listen to orders. So here he was, on the shores of Nimbasa, ready to sacrifice his men to protect a wooden drawbridge from an inevitable Confederate attack, whenever it came. For now, he looked over the map of the local area, looking at how his army could avoid this battle entirely if they had the federal navy keeping the rebels away from the bridge. Alas, the Serperior Plan called for the splitting of the seceding cities by cutting of the large river that flowed and separated western Unova from central and eastern Unova. To accomplish this however, the Navy had to sail upriver on both lakes (there was one to the east as well) to blockade Route 8, Route 9, and the Tubeline Bridge to cut off Opelucid from the rest of the Confederate cities. While there was little luck in the eastern river (the Federal Navy over there was nowhere near Route 11, Route 12, and Village Bridge thanks in part to the Confederates newly created iron clad nicknamed the Merrimack), that was not the case in the western river. The Navy Ships had broken through the Confederate blockade here, and began bombarding any Confederate supply lines traveling from the western Confederate cities to Opelucid, and vice versa. However, that meant the Navy could not assist the troops safeguarding Nimbasa from a rebel attack, a possibility increased by the Union Navy blockading the Tubeline Bridge and the surrounding route because now the Confederates saw this a chance to not only attack Nimbasa and deal a heavy financial and morale blow to the Union, but to also shift the Navy's focus away from their supply lines. The only thing separating the Confederates from Nimbasa was the Driftveil Drawbridge.

As Alder looked over the map by candlelight, tapping the table with his trembling hands, a result of his time in service, the tent flap opened up, letting light into the dark tent. Alder looked up, and saw a man dressed in the standard Union Army uniform; a navy blue coat, blue military pants, a Union Army cap, brown shoes worn and muddy, and a gunpowder container wrapped around his shoulder, and resting on his side. It was one of his messengers.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Sir, our spotters have just gotten visual of the rebels making battle formations on the other side of the bridge, they're getting ready to attack! General says to get your men into gear, and head to the bridge with the 5th and 6th battalions."

Alder's heart dropped, and his blood went cold. He always dreaded this news, and it always did the same thing to him. It was because he was in fact scared of the rebels. Their fighting spirit was unlike anything he had ever seen. Whenever he got word to battle, he knew hundreds of his men would be sent home in coffins draped with the Union flag. He smacked his lips, and turned toward Volcarona, who had the same look of dread on his face. Alder gulped silently, not wanting the messenger to take notice, and grabbed his sword and revolver. He waved the messenger off, and turned toward Volcarona. "Let's not keep the rebels waiting."

Alder and Volcarona exited the tent, and found themselves in the middle of the camp getting ready to battle. Soldiers ran to and fro, heading to their respective companies, while others got up from the little conversation circles they made to pass the time, grabbing their heavy packs full of provisions, gunpowder containers, and rifles. Alder looked around, and saw his regiment sitting on their Zebstrikas, getting put into formation by his Captain. He made his way to his men, Volcarona following close behind.

"Alright you yellow bellied bastards, get your asses into gear!" the Captain yelled, glaring at his men "the rebels are finally making their move, and you pansies can't even get into formation! Most of you recruits haven't a darn clue who you are up against do you? Ask the veterans that have fought against the rebels. They will tell you they are no laughing matter. I'm not going to lie, many of you will die fighting, but if you're acting like this already, I guarantee a whole lot more of you will be sent home in Union flags if you don't get you're act together!"

"At ease Captain" Alder said, taking the Captain by surprise. "Sir" he said respectively, giving Alder a salute before letting him talk to his men. All grew silent as they waited for their Colonel to speak to them, and give them his words of wisdom. Alder cleared his throat as he began to pace back and forth, looking at his men. Most of them were fresh young faces he did not recognize. A small few were grim and battle hardened. They were the vets who had been with Colonel Alder Royce in several battles. They resented him and his seemingly cold view of soldiers. After looking at his troops, Alder stopped pacing, and looked at them all.

"Today, you will all be facing the fiercest foes this nation has ever seen, her own men. The rebels you will be fighting today are Unovians just like you and me. Today you will be killing brothers, fathers, nephews, uncles...but that is just what we have to do. We are soldiers because we are to fight, not to stop and question if what you are doing is right or wrong. You do that, and you will get a bullet in your head, you want to know why? The men on the other side of the bridge know that we are Unovians like them as well. They know we are all one in the same. However, they also know we will be trying to kill them, and to keep each other safe, they will need to kill us. We must do the same in order to protect each other, for we are all brothers in this regiment. We fight, we live, and we die together. Forget secession, forget slavery. We fight for each other."

"Easier said then done, right Colonel."

All eyes turned to one of the soldiers sitting on a Zebstrika. Alder saw it was one of his soldiers that had been with him from the very beginning, one of the grim faced ones. He glared at Alder, looking right through him and planting his hate into his very soul. "Right Colonel?"

"That's insubordination!" Alder's Captain yelled as he steered his Zebstrika over to the veteran soldier. "How dare you took back to your superior, I ought to have you hung up by a noose you little traitorous cur!"

"It's fine Captain, let it be" Alder replied as he walked over to his Zebstrika, and began to mount it. The Captain quickly spun around in disbelief "you're going to let him get away with that kind of disrespect?! At least Court Martial the son of a bitch!"

Alder said nothing as he finally mounted his Zebstrika, and turned toward his men one last time. "Let's move out."

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><p><strong>On the other side of the bridge...<strong>

Loud drums and fifes permeated the streets of Driftveil City as the Confederate Army marched through the dirt streets with the tune of Dixie blowing behind their backs, driving them forward to confront the federals across the bridge and lay waste to the city of Nimbasa that lay beyond the line of blue. And why not be driven? For a year now, they had tanned the hides of the federal army. They made them run all the way back to Castelia City after the First Battle of Bouffalant Run; the first battle of the Unovian Civil War. The most recent victory for the Confederate Army was the battle of Route 14 on the eastern front. Now they were going to face off against the federals once more.

Hopes were high, they should have been after the amount of success they have had, but none was more proud then the tall, white, muscular 6'1 man with a tough chin, and long light green hair wearing a magnificent gray buttoned uniform complete with gray pants, knee high polished black boots, padded black gloves, and a gray Confederate Army cap. On his hip was a sheathed sword, polished and sharp despite the number of times it experienced flesh, blood, and bone beneath its blade. This man was Captain Stewart Jackson, commander of the Mistralton City Raiders. He had lead his men in the First Battle of Bull Run as one of the first troops to fight against the Union. Their attack brought a decisive victory for the Confederacy, but more importantly to Captain Jackson, a hope for change. You see, Captain Jackson fought for the Confederacy to combat what he believed was a blatant attack on the nation his forefathers had fought so dearly for. Ever since he was a child, his father, a ranch hand on one of the big northern plantations in Mistralton, warned him to be weary of the centralized government, something his papa had told him when he was a kid. The centralized government, he said, had great potential to become a tyranny, something their forefathers had fought against to create the nation-region. However, he was also told to love the and respect the founding principals that made the nation great; freedom, independence, and the right for all men to make their own path. So he did. He respected his nation, and abided by its laws. He never questioned anything until...the incident. That was when he first started to question his government. How could they let that happen? Why would they let that happen? Despite his slowly growing disillusion, Stewart continued on, doing his best to be a good citizen.

Then came 1861. The war started, and he joined the Confederates to protect his home city of Mistralton. Even then, he still had love for the Union, and did not agree with secession. That changed when Mr. Lincoln suspended Habeas Corpus without congressional permission. That is when he realized his country was gone. Tyranny had overcome the land of the free, and his Confederate brothers were the only beacon of hope and freedom for the white man left. All he had left were his brothers...

"Captain, hey Captain!"

Stewart quickly turned around and looked down to face a man in a Confederate officer's uniform, much like his, and worn with the same amount of pride, but this man's build filled it in much more. He was much taller than Stewart, about 6'8, he almost reached Stewarts head, despite the Captain sitting on a Zebstrika. This tall mountain of a man was Stewart's Sergeant, Cooter Douglas. He was an old childhood friend of the Captain. "What is it Cooter?"

"D'ya hear about Mr. Davis coming over here to speak to us after we take Nimbasa?!" Cooter said enthusiastically "Man o man, I'm just dying to shake his hand! I'm more excited than a Tepig in a mudslide heheye!"

"Sarge, you've been listening in on stupid 'ol soldier gossip haven't you!" said another man, who quickly walked over to Cooter, and Stewart sitting on his war Zebstrika. This man was tall (about 6'5) and heavyset with the body akin to that of a pear. He wore the uniform of a Confederate regular; a gray coat, dark gray pants, black shoes, a pack filled with supplies, a gunpowder bag on his hip, rifle in his hands, and of course a Confederate cap on his wispy brown hair. This was Chester Daniels, another old childhood friend of both Stewart, and Cooter. He was a Corporal in the Mistralton Raiders, but since his best friends were his surperiors, he was treated like he was a much higher rank. The same went for another 6'5 man, approaching the trio. This man, by the name of James Peterson, with his muscular build, and short blonde hair, wore the uniform like that of Chester, for he too was a Corporal. The title of Corporal really meant nothing because he also was the childhood friend of the trio, they had all joined to fight for the Confederates. Rank did not surpass their friendship.

"He must've been, cause the path from Opelucid to here is being blockaded by the yankee navy. Why do ya think wur goin over to Nimbasa?" James chuckled as he caught up to his friends. "I thought we was goin over there to take the city, and shoot some coons and yankees along the way" Cooter replied as he removed his cap to scratch his head confused "why else are we headin over thar?"

"Ta divert them nigger lovin yankee's ships back over here, so the path up north can be clear" James replied as he playfully slapped Cooter's back "that's why stupid."

"I'm not stupid!" Cooter shot back, getting defensive, causing the other three to laugh.

"Cooter, you would forget your own head if it weren't attached to your body!" Chester chuckled, agreeing with James. Cooter looked at the two giggling soldier with wide sad eyes, before turning toward Stewart. "I'm not stupid, am I?"

"Well my friend" Stewart started, patting the large man's shoulder sympathetically "you are a little on the slow side."

"Oh..." Cooter muttered, looking down toward the ground sadly. "However" Stewart started once more as he looked up at the cloudy sky "the real reason we're heading over to Nimbasa is a fairly simple one. Sure the short term goal is to get them yankee ships away from the capital, but the long term goal is the same reason we joined up in this here army in first place...to protect freedom my friends. To defend the ideals that made this nation so great, to protect them against the tyranny of a centralized power. A power that would rather kill its citizens then let them be free, a power that would place itself above its so called Constitution and suspend Habeas Corpus, a power that values the life of a nigger, more than the life of a white man. We're fighting against that power boys, that's why we're heading over to Nimbasa."

"Rebel pride!" the trio proclaimed, inspired by Stewart's words. Stewart chuckled with them "hehe, rebel pride!"

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><p><strong>Midday...<strong>

On the eastern shore of the great western river, flowing calmly and oblivious to the event about to unfold around it. The Union line slowly advanced, the infantry following Alder and the rest of the Calvary toward the bridge, now a maze of sandbags, barbed wire, and other means of defense for this day, the day the Confederates attacked.. Union cannons and batteries were set up behind them, pointed toward the other side of the bridge where the Confederates were setting up as well, the tune of Dixie beating fiercely into the Union soldier's ears as the fifes and drums blended with the gloomy atmosphere to create a sense of inevitable doom. The grim reality was the atmosphere was correct; only doom lied ahead.

The Union Army continued its advance, as the Confederate Army did the same. Their infantry behind a wall of Calvary riding on Zebstrika, and supported by powerful war Haxorus bred in the great Confederate capital of Opelucid City. The grumbled and grunted in anticipation of the coming battle.

Alder felt his heart start to beat as his Zebstrika's hoof set itself onto the wooden planks of the Driftveil Drawbridge, making a clanking noise that made Alder shutter with every trot. Noticing this, Volcarona nudged him as a way of showing he would be by his side no matter what. Alder smiled, and continued into the drawbridge, the rest following suite.

Meanwhile on the other side, the Confederate Calvary and Mistralton Raiders found themselves on the large and wide bridge as well. Far beyond them on the other end were the federals dressed in blue. The Confederate Army continued deeper into the bridge, while the Union did the same. Soon they cam across the point of no return, where it was almost impossible to have a large army retreat from a confined area. The tension became so thick you could cut it with a knife. The two armies would have to fight to the bitter end. After marching for quite some time, the two armies stopped, and glared at each other from the far distances separating them. The battle tunes of the Union began to play, as did the battle tunes of the Confederates. Out of nowhere, the opposing batteries started to fire at each other, creating ear deafening bangs as the large shells hit the opposing shores, at time missing their targets, at other times hitting their targets right on the spot which resulted in the destruction of the great weapons of war, and the men manning them. None of the sides dare targeted the bridge for obvious reasons. They both needed it, that's why the ground forces were here. To fight and die for a large heap of wood.

Soon the bombardment began to lower in intensity, giving signal that it was time for battle. Alder's heart began to beat intensely with fear, as Stewart's heart on the opposite end of the bridge began to beat with enthusiasm. Suddenly, the two armies roared, and began their charges. The Calvary galloped into battle first with their Zebstrika, followed by infantrymen and different specialized units such as snipers, and the shock troops who rolled portable gatling guns on wheels into battle. The two armies ran at each other until they finally closed the gap, and chaos ensued.

Bullets and war cries filled the air as the two armies smashed into each other. Alder, who was in the front line was immediately greeted by the opposing Calvary men raising their swords to slice at him and his steed, while infantrymen on the ground pointed their rifles at him with intent to kill.

"Electrify them!" Alder cried as he blocked an incoming sword with his own, almost dropping his due to the speed at which they were traveling, and the disorienting nature of battle. His Zebstrika wasted no time letting a surge of electricity escape its body (powered and fed by the energy of the gallop), shocking nearby infantrymen, burning them into a crisp as their eyes began to pop and ooze, and their bowels released as their bodies shut down and fell dead. Another wave of Calvary men tore through some of his men, and went straight for him. He didn't have time to react, for he was occupied by slashing at some of the Confederate soldiers stabbing at his Zebstrika with their bayonets. Luckily for Alder, he had a guardian angel in the form of a large fire breathing moth. Volcarona flew in between the attacking soldiers and his trainer, and let loose with a searing hot stream of fire that engulfed the rebel soldiers in a fiery blaze that left them dropping their weapons and screaming in terrible agony as their flesh began to peel off under the intense heat of the flames, until they dropped to the floor dead.

"Thank you Volcarona!" Alder shouted, unable to control the volume of his voice amid the savagery of battle. By now, the line of Calvary on both sides had either been killed, or made it through to the opposing armies area to wreck havoc. Alder continued to gallop around the bridge, slashing at Confederates as he went, until he looked ahead and saw something that made him gasp. A group of three rebels had rolled their gatling gun into the fray, and aimed it at him and his Zebstrika. Alder's eyes grew wide as the sleek rapid fire weapon of war was started up by one of the men cranking the lever on its side. The multiple barrels started to turn, as the cartridge situated on top started to feed the ammunition into the massive gun.

_**BAM**_

_**BAM**_

_**BAM**_

_**BAM**_

_**BAM**_

The gatling gun's continuous fire sent steel cylinders, propelled by black powder right into the side of the large electric type pokemon. The flesh was no match for the velocity in which the 'bullets' traveled. They tore through Zebstrika, leaving him riddled with massive entrance wounds, and even bigger exit wounds. The pokemon collapsed, leaking blood onto the already stained planks of the bridge. The fall of the massive pokemon sent Alder onto the wooden planks, behind the fallen Zebstrika, keeping him safe from the continuous firing of the gatling gun. He eased himself up against the dead Zebstrika, and looked at the scene befalling his eyes.

Men all around him were swept in a storm of testosterone and violence. Men hid behind sandbags, dead pokemon, and even the destroyed weapons of war to take pot shots at each other. Others fired at each other without the protection of cover, these were the men that died first. Even if they killed their immediate target, they're were still many more, and the ones that he didn't fire at, ended up firing at him, leaving him a bloody mess of flesh riddled with mini balls, and dismembered limbs. The most bloodthirsty and violent of soldiers, probably made so by the many battles they endured, ran at each other to fight with swords, knives, hatchets, bayonets, and even their fists. This was the most brutal of them all, hand to hand combat. Flesh was ripped, and blood leaked profusely from wounds. Faces were bludgeoned, and limbs were lost. All this, laid before Alder's eyes, the savagery and brutality intensified by the sounds of war; the firing of rounds, the shrill screams of the mortally wounded, the gushing and pitter patter of blood as it stained the wooden planks in crimson, the cries of pokemon as they suffered the same fate as their friends. All while that damn gatling gun continued to fire into the dead Zebstrika Alder was currently taking cover behind. Although he had seen the horrors of war many times, you could never get over it, it was always new to you. However, he did not have the time to be traumatized, for some of the gray coated rebels noticed he was still alive, and aimed their rifles at him.

Alder acted quickly. He pulled out his Navy Colts, and quickly fired at the enemies.

_**BAM**_

_**BAM**_

_**BAM**_

Alder fired three times, cocking the hammer of the colt with his thumb each time he fired. The .36s tore through the enemy soldiers, tearing through flesh and bone, and letting their liquid crimson life force spill out onto their uniforms and the wooden panels underneath before toppling over and twitching before growing still as the last breaths left their bodies. However, Alder was still not safe. The gatling gun still unloaded at the poor dead Zebstrika he hid behind, tearing the door dead pokemon's back into nothing but a torn lifeless mess. As Alder's mind raced to judge his next course of action, a shadow shaded over him for a split second. He looked up and saw his best friend, Volcarano, flying overhead toward the gatling gun. The shock troops manning the destructive instrument of war gasped as they saw the large pokemon hovering over them and glaring. Before the Confederates could react, Volcarona let a fiery stream of fire escape his mouth, engulfing the troops and gatling gun in flames. Alder peeked out from the dead Zebstrika, and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the shock troopers collapse in a human ball of flames, seemingly dead.

"God has certainly blessed me with you Volcarona!" Alder shouted as he lifted himself up, and walked around the fallen Zebstrika to regroup with his trusty pokemon. "Carona" Volcarona said with a nod, as he and Alder looked on at the chaos still playing out around them. "Fuck this, let's just retreat" Alder wanted to say as the brutality of war happened all around him, but he knew he was a soldier and he had a job to do. He raised his Colt, and fired two more shots, killing two rebels before throwing his Colt to the ground (since it had no more bullets) and unsheathing his Calvary sword to have a weapon in his hand for the time being. He didn't want to go around with just his sword, so he looked around for some kind of ballistic weapon he could use to defend himself at long to mid range. Amidst the blood and violence being perpetrated by the sea of gray and blue, he saw a Revolving Rifle leaning up against a pile of sandbags about 10 meters away from him. However, there was quite a few troops in between him and the gun, but the only feasible way for him to survive this intense battle was to have some kind of firearm. Without one, he would most likely die. "Volcarona, you see that gun over there?" Volcarona nodded "I'm going to try my luck and try to charge over there. You use that Flamethrower of yours to keep me safe from rebels trying to put me six feet under, you got that?"

"Carona" Volcarona nodded once more, as Alder gulped before sprinting toward the sandbags and gun, keeping as low as humanly possible to avoid gunfire from Confederate rifles. Some rebels saw him running low, and attacked. Since he was in such close proximity, they resorted to their bayonets. Alder, with adrenaline coursing through his veins, easily blocked the attacks with his sword before slashing back at the enemy soldiers, leaving deep gashes or completely severing a limb depending on where the blade landed. Volcarona on the other hand flew on the side, shooting bursts of flames from his mouth at Confederate soldiers that aimed their rifles at his master.

After leaving a trail of blood and severed limbs behind him, Alder finally reached the sandbags, and quickly eased himself behind them. He savored the cover the sandbags provided him, like a child savoring the taste of a sweet chocolate bar. He took a moment to catch his breath, as Volcarona continued to fly around, shooting bursts of fire at unknown targets. After he caught his breath, Alder grabbed the Revolving Rifle and held it close to his chest. He flipped the cylinder open and saw that their were only three .56 bullets in the cylinder.

_"Shit, this is not enough to keep me alive in this hell. I need more bullets!"_

Alder peeked from behind the sandbags, and saw his Volcarona hovering about 6 feet off of the wooden planks, and was revolving slowly whilst breathing a steady stream of fire that slapped the Confederates away, and even attached to some and slowly engulfing their bodies as they screamed a shrill scream of mortal pain. Alder saw some rebels, out of reach of the powerful pokemon's Flamethrower, point their rifles and prepare to fire at his best friend.

"No!" he shouted as he raised the rifle and fired.

_**BAM**_

_**BAM**_

_**BAM**_

The three bullets tore into three gray uniformed rebels, one getting hit through his neck, causing him to scream (which made blood gush out of his wound), drop his weapon, and fall to the floor dead. The next bullet struck the next rebel right in his head, causing part of it to explode, sending brain matter and skull fragments to fly all over the place as the now headless body toppled over dead onto the blood soaked floor. The final bullet landed right into the third rebel's shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain as he fell on the floor, clutching his wounded shoulder as blood streamed from the spaces between his fingers.

Alder went back behind cover to flip the cylinder back open and let the used casings out. He looked all over, hoping for some more bullets. He could find none.

_"Come on, come on! I need some god damn-"_

"Carona!"

Alder's heart dropped. That shrill cry of pain, that voice was his friend, and something was not right, not right at all. He quickly poked his head back out from behind the sandbags. What he saw made him gasp, and made his eyes grow wide and fill with tears...

* * *

><p><strong>7 Minutes ago...<strong>

The rebel yell escaped the throats of the proud Confederates as they charged into battle without fear in their rebel hearts. Stewart's heart tightened with courage as the federals got closer with each gallop, his friends following far behind, rolling a gatling gun into battle. As the two opposing sides grew closer and closer to each other, Stewart pulled out his sawed off double barreled coach gun, ready to fire off the 10 gauge shells into a blue uniformed federal. However, before he could fire at anybody, it appeared a Union sniper had him in his crosshairs, for a bullet slammed into the head of the Zebstrika he was riding on. The large electric type fell onto its face, sending Stewart hurdling of him to the wooden panels of the drawbridge. "Damnit that hurt something fierce!" he cried as he struggled to pick himself up, but quickly planted himself back onto the floor as the rest of the Calvary jumped over him and his dead Zebstrika. Once the Calvary was clear over him, the infantry followed. Stewart caught sight of his raiders, and to his delight, his friends rolling the gatling gun along the bridge. Stewart ran over to them, coach gun in hand.

"Stewart, aren't you spose to be with the Calvary?" Cooter yelled so he could be heard over the sounds of war. "My darn Zebstrika got himself a bullet in his head!" Stewart informed his dimwitted friend as he began to help them push the gatling gun along.

"Gosh, that is one heck of a stroke of bad luck!" Chester shouted, just as the Union Calvary passed by, followed by the Union infantry. "We've got Yankees!" James yelled as Chester grabbed the crank on the side of the gatling gun and started to turn it. Bullets flew into different Union soldiers as James cranked, and the rest swiveled to mow down the incoming Union troops. Blood splattered, and meat chunks flew. It didn't faze the buddies though, they saw the same scene countless times, but to them it was necessary. Freedom and the ideals of the nation were at stake.

"Move up!" Stewart yelled, and his friends complied. They continued to roll the gatling gun toward the gunfire, deeper into the chaos. "Keep going, for the Confederacy!"

The four then all sucked air into their lungs, and let the iconic rebel yell escape their lungs. The war cry motivated them, and others to push forward. Around them, Confederate soldiers, fellow brothers, ran into the fray with their rifles raised as they to let the rebel yell escape their throats until they were sore. They pushed back the first group of Union soldiers coming at them, but then suddenly

_**BANG**_

A shot rang out, followed by a fellow rebel soldier getting thrown to the floor by the force of the bullet that struck him. He coughed and gurgled blood out of his mouth as he tried desperately to breathe. "NO!" Stewart cried out as he prepared to run to the fallen brother's side, but another shot stopped him from going near the Confederate. This one struck the man's lower half of his face, completely destroying his jaw and parts of his nose, finishing the job of the first bullet. However, this time Stewart saw where the shots came from. Up ahead, a Union sniper hid behind a pile of sandbags, aiming at the gatling gun, or more specifically, the people moving the gatling gun...then.

"GET DOWN!" Stewart cried, and in an instant they all planted themselves onto the floor, just as the sniper's bullet flew over their heads.

"God almighty that was a close one!" James yelled as he kept himself planted on the floor. "You can say that again" Cheseter muttered as he too kept himself planted on the floor. In fact, the only one who got up was Stewart, just so he could see what the sniper was doing. He could not see him, which meant he was hiding behind the sandbags.

_"Yes, he's reloading."_

Stewart quickly turned to his comrades "you all keep rolling this gatling gun up the bridge. Ima take care of that sniping yellow belly!"

"Yes sir!" the trio said as they got up and started to push the gatling gun. Stewart on the other hand moved away from the gatling gun, and precious cover, and started to make a bee line for the sniper's nest, which was easier said then done, for their were several federal troops in between him and the sniper. To make things more difficult, the sniper finished reloading, and peeked out with his rifle from behind the sandbags. Worse yet, he had caught sight of Stewart, and began to train his rifle at him.

Stewart acted quickly. He saw a dead Haxorus lying on the floor. More than enough to give him sufficient cover. He jumped behind the fallen dragon type as the sniper fired, completely missing him. Knowing that the sniper had to reload once more, Stewart quickly pounced at the opportunity to get closer to the sniper. He left the coverof the Haxorus, and made a zigzag toward the sandbags, fighting two Union soldiers along the way. The first he slew easily. He had drawn out his sword, and sliced at the federal troop's neck, almost severing it. The Union soldier collapsed with a swiveling neck gushing out blood, as another Union troop attempted to avenge his fallen comrade. He went for an overhead stabbing motion with his bayonet, but Stewart blocked it with his sword. The Union soldier, now defenseless as his weapon was occupied by the sword, was greeted by Stewart shoving his coach gun into the man's face and firing.

_**BANG**_

The 10 gauge round must have been magical because it made the soldier's head disappear, and replaced it with a bloody stump of a neck that sprayed crimson fluid all over the place, including Stewart's face and uniform. With the enemy troops dealt with, Stewart sprinted toward the sandbag, and when he was in distance, slid to ease himself against it just as the Union troop peeked out again from behind the bags to look for a target. He was oblivious to the fact that Stewart was just on the other side of the sandbags, waiting for him to poke his gun out, which he promptly did when he caught sight of somebody or somepokemon to shoot at. When he saw the rifle loom over him, Stewart immediately grabbed it, and used it as leverage to flip the sniper over to his side. The sniper landed on his back, groaning in pain as he opened his eyes to be greeted by Stewart's coach gun pointed directly at him.

_**BANG**_

Stewart took the sniper's head clean off with the close proximity scatter shot, leaving the area where the sniper's head once was a nasty pile of blood, brain, bone, meat chunks, and splintered wood. "Serves you right you yankee son of a bitch" Stewart muttered as he placed his sword on the ground to take the shells out of the break-action gun, and place new ones in. As he did this, he heard the tell tale sounds of gatling gun firing. He peeked out from behind the sandbags and saw that his friends had downed a Calvary man's Zebstrika. He now took cover behind it as a group of Confederate brothers descended onto him. They were met by his Navy Colt firing into them, and quickly ending their lives. Stewart's teeth gritted as he prepared to climb over the sandbags and kill the Union scum himself, but just as he prepared to do this, a large moth like pokemon known as a Volcarona flew overhead toward his friends behind the gatling gun. His eye's widened as the Volcarona let loose with a stream of fire that blanketed his men and the gatling gun in flames. He saw as they fell to the floor, their bodies still engulfed in the flames. Seeing that made Stewart lose his head. Rational thought escaped him, as the instincts of a warrior took over the movements of his body. He leapt over the sandbags, sword and coach gun in hand. He started to stride over to the motherless yankee goat, but the soldier started to run, god knows where. He was just about to follow him, when he caught the eye of a few other yankee soldiers. They pointed their rifles at him, but he quickly raised his coach gun at them and fired twice.

_**BAM**_

_**BAM**_

The scattered pellets made quick work of the group, and he was once again tailing the yankee bastard. He saw the man off a couple more of his Confederate brothers, along with that giant bug of his. The deaths of more of his fellow comrades only fed his rage and anger. He started to run, joining a group of fellow rebels fighting with the Volcarona. He raised his gun, and pulled the trigger...but nothing came out.

_"GOD DAMNIT, FORGOT TO RELOAD!"_

As Stewart mentally berated himself, Volcarona let loose with another stream of fire that engulfed the Confederate soldiers around him. Stewart quickly realized that the flames were coming toward him, and if he wanted to avenge his fallen brothers, he could not berate himself any further. He dropped his coach gun and planted himself against the wooden planks, letting the fire stream pass over him, but still feeling its heat and flames slap his back occasionally. Once he could feel the flames no more, he got up and opened his eyes. He saw Volcarona occupied with another group of rebels, and the Union soldier firing at three other rebels, killing them all.

That was the last straw.

Stewart unsheathed his sword, and charged at the Volcarona, currently with its back toward him. Stewart let the rebel yell escape his lungs before he attacked.

_**SLASH**_

Volcarona's eyes went wide as he felt a surge of immense pain shoot up his body. The next feeling he got was of half of him falling away from him as his wings stopped flapping due to blood loss. His compound eyes lost their life, and he fell to the floor in two separate pieces...dead.

Stewart grew an evil grin on his face as he looked upon the severed Volcarona twitching on the ground. His blade was covered with the pokemon's blood, but was still able to easily reflect the downright malevolent expression on Stewart's face. "That was for you my fellow-"

"NO!"

Stewart looked up and saw the Union soldier he was chasing earlier rush at him. "You sister-fucking son of a bitch, I'll kill you!" The enraged Union soldier yelled as he raised his sword, and brought it down towards Stewart. Stewart quickly parried it with his own, and proceeded to counterattack. The soldier (Alder) blocked the attack, and began to slash away. Stewart blocked these slashes as well, and began to strike with his own sword. Soon both were slashing and blocking, fueled by rage and the need for vengeance. Nothing else mattered, the reasons why they were fighting, for their men, their nation, their way of lie, quickly went out the window. Their death battle was theirs', and theirs' only. The soldiers fighting around them did not matter, for all they saw were each other, the enemy. Both equally matched in rage and skill, they could not break through each other's defenses.

However, there were other powers at work that would end the futile fight. While the two armies battled, the opposing batteries on the shores had resumed their bombardments. It just so happened that as a Confederate canon wasloaded and ready to fire, a Union shell hit it just as it fired. Its course shifted, it arced straight toward the bridge...

_**BOOM**_

The shell hit the side of the bridge, completely destroying the small area in which it hit, and sending the surrounding soldiers flying back with the impact, soldiers like Alder and Stewart. The force of the impact had knocked them both out, ending their conflict for the time being...

* * *

><p><strong>The Next Day...<strong>

All was quiet on the bridge. The water was still, like it had been before. It was peaceful, no one would have known there was a battle on these grounds if they had gone by the atmosphere, but the complete devastation would tell you otherwise. Soldiers and pokemon lied dead on the bridge and shore, and some even floatedin the water. Rifles, pistols, and other various firearms were strewn about, lying in what they had created. Splintered wood and broken structures showed thepowerof the weapons of war, but also the futility of it. Sure, the Union had won the battle, but it was a bitter victory. Both sides went back to their camps with the dead and wounded (most of which would die from disease). They would then await amongst the agonizing screams of those who had limbs amputated to save their lives, for the next call to battle. In their eyes, there was no clear winner, for there were two flags that laid among the devastation and the fallen. Both torn and covered with blood and grime. They were the flags of both the Union, and the Confederates. So different, yet the same. Hatred lived in both of them, and even when the war would end, the hatred would live on...

**And scene. That there was the prologue to my new story. Before I go on, I want to say a few things.**

**1. I know that the Confederates were from the south, and that the Union was from the North, but in the Unova Region Castelia City is in the south. If Castelia City is in the south, that means the Union has to be in the south in this story. Why? Because Castelia City is suppose to be based off of New York, and New York was in the Union, so the south is the Union in my story.**

**2. You may have noticed this prologue was set in the 1860s, when I clearly stated this story was set in the 1870s. Before you kill me, let me inform you that this is only the prologue, and it is here to set up the tone and plot for the rest of the story which will be set in 1876.**

**3. This story will probably take long to update because my main focus is on my other story (The Girl With The Green Bandanna). Once that one is finished (which won't be for a while), more attention will be placed on this story. Also I have to play Black again to refresh my memory on the map, pokemon, and other elements of the game.**

**Well that's about it, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feel free to follow favorite, and leave a review! Even if it's you flaming the shit out of me, I'll happily accept it. You took the time to read this here story, and I appreciate that. Goodbye, and thanks for reading!**


	2. The Start of a Journey Part 1

**The Start of a Journey…In a 'Subtly' Divided Land-Part 1**

**Rural Driftveil City**

**July 2nd 1876**

The moon was high in the sky, bathing the endless fields and rolling hills in a majestic light hue. A cold breeze swept across the vast fields of wheat, making them sway in unison like a perfectly coordinated band of Unovian patriots swaying to the sound of their nation-region's anthem. While this vast landscape was a sight to behold, a vision of natures awe inspiring beauty, it was desolate. Not a soul was able to appreciate such beauty most days and nights. It seemed the landscape was doomed to share the same fate as a lovely young woman with an overprotective father; unappreciated and never looked upon. Past the fields and rolling hills, something that seemed impossible by the sheer size of the landscape, the fields surrendered to a small homestead surrounded by dry grass, an enclosure where they kept Bouffalant and Zebstrika, and behind the home were patches of maize and potato crops. The small homestead itself, was situated in the middle of the everything, a rustic thing made of wood from the oak tree. On the side of the homestead was a fairly large shanty shack filled with tools to work the fields. A small dirt path that lead to the house ended at a dirt road a few meters away from said homestead, a dirt road that stretched about three miles until it reached Driftveil City. Not many went down the road, leaving the small homestead isolated and peaceful; the young white couple that inhabited it left to go on about their business without interference of any kind. They worked the fields, took care of their pokemon, and in there spare time, did their best to spread the idea of social and financial equality for the former slaves of Unova. In their eyes, freedom wasn't just the unshackling of the chains, but the former slaves needed assistance to become productive members of society, and their previous bondage deprived them of that knowledge.

But quite a few disagreed with this way of thinking, and the freedom for the slaves in general. Some disagreed with the whole validity of the government, some saw it as a mockery to the true Unova, something that died a long time ago. Some people believed there needed to be a major change so the idea of liberty could live on. Unfortunately for the couple, the most extreme of that train of thought was riding toward their home on a striped Zebstrika.

* * *

><p>"Honey, how many are out there?" whispered a woman wearing a dark green French evening gown festooned with flowers and worn with mid-length white gloves and a black neck ribbon. Her voice was shaky and apprehensive, and her face was pale and still with fear. She was more than worried, she was terrified. Th man standing beside her, looking out the window, also had a terrified expression on his face, but he tried to hide it to keep his wife at ease. He wore a cutaway sack coat with grey trousers, and a black bowler hat. In his hand was a sleek double barreled 10 gauge shotgun. His hand slightly trembled, causing the stock of the gun to his his leg lightly.<p>

He looked toward his wife, and tried to comfort her with his trusting eyes, but they only showed her that he too was terrified. "About six my dear, but not too worry, these men are cowards. Their goal is to merely frighten us. Violence, no matter how much they preach it, is not in their nature."

The man's wife nodded, wanting to believe her husband, but the people outside did not look like they merely preached violence. Five of the men outside wore dark long sleeved western shirts and jeans, with old burlap sacks with slits where the eyes should be on their heads. In one hand, they had a firearm of some sort; either it be a pistol, repeater rifle, or shotgun. In the other hand was a torch with a large crackling flame on the end. The men rode on their Zebstrika, galloping around the house screaming "death to the nigger lovers!" or "traitors to the flag!"

While these marauders were terrifying, the scariest and who appeared to be the leader was a tall muscular man on a Zebstrika farther away from the house and the marauders. This man wore a gray buttoned up confederate uniform complete with golden epaulettes on each shoulder. His pants were also gray, and were completed by polished knee high, black military boots. However, the most distinguishing feature on this man was the pointed gray hood he wore over his head, the slits for the eyes were blacked out by the way the moonlight hit the man. It was frightening and almost demonic. He and the Zebstrika were unmoving, and in his hand was a long barrel scoped Henry Rifle with a fine brass finish on the receiver. He held it loosely so its barrel pointed toward the ground. As the couple looked at the menacing figure from the 'safety' of their home, the gray hooded man raised his open palm up high to silence the marauders. They quit their hollering and stopped galloping around the house.

The gray hooded man cleared his throat and began to speak "Now I know you two can hear me in there, and I only want to tell you this once. Come on out here so we don't have to drag your nigger luvin asses out here ourselves. Face it, you're fate is already decided, don't add agonizing pain to it as well. Besides, it's real purty out here right now. I think I can even see the Big Dipper right now..."

"Yeah you talk a mouthful!" the man inside yelled as he brandished his shotgun angrily "but you cowards haven't the gut to come and get us yourselves, ya no good inbred-"

Before the man could finish, the hooded man raised his rifle and fired it.

_**BAM**_

A burst of fire escaped the barrel just as a .44 round was sent out of it, and sailed toward the house._** CRASH!** _the bullet crashed through the window, making the young couple shriek and plant themselves on the floor. However, the bullet was not meant for them, but rather for an oil lamp on one of the shelves behind them. The bullet struck, and caused the lamp to shatter, letting the contents spill out every which way. The oil was lit and a fire began to slowly sear across the wooden floorboards. The woman gasped as they both quickly realized the men outside were no joke. To reinforce this, the hooded man made a weird hand gesture which prompted the marauders to throw their torches onto the roof of the house. The old dried wood was no match for the blazes, and the roof quickly ignited into an inferno. Meanwhile inside, the fire had spread quickly and had now engulfed the majority of the house. The woman cried hysterically as her husband held her tightly. He knew staying inside meant certain death, the intense heat and searing flames made that quite clear, but heading outside meant death as well. He would rather die at the power of a force of nature than a few angry rednecks outside.

"Come on, you ain't gonna last in there" the hooded man yelled once again as he put the barrel of his rifle on his shoulder "just come on out here so we can talk."

"Fuck you!" the man yelled so he could be heard over the roaring flames and his shrieking wife. The hooded man outside sighed and shook his head before yelling out "Chester, go get em outta that there inferno."

Suddenly, the wall behind the couple was smashed open. They both yelped at the sudden commotion, and were ready to dismiss it as the house getting ready to collapse on them, meaning their death, but their eyes grew wide with disbelief and sheer terror. Standing at the entrance of the opening of the flame engulfed wall was the largest, bulkiest creature they had ever seen. The shape was six feet five inches, and incredibly thick with muscle and a few other compounds most people did not normally have. The large hunched monstrosity was clearly visible by the flickering light of the flames, even though the shadows they cast on the shape distorted all of the details of his body. The shape wore a burlap sack over his head like the marauders, but the eye slits were pitch black. No eyes could be seen. His body and legs were sheathed by a dark gray western long sleeve, and denim overalls. However, the shape's clothes was the last thing one would notice on him. His most distinguishing feature were the large thick metal bases wrapped in heavy chains that started just under his elbow. On the base were large rusted hooks as thick as the man's legs. On the shapes body, arms, legs, and head were metal wires that lead to something strapped to his back by a thick leather belt around his shoulders and stomach. This thing on his back, this metal apparatus of sorts created sharp chugging sounds. Terrified of the beast standing before them, the man lifted his shotgun and pointed at the shape.

_**BAM**_

The 10 gauge buckshot flew out of the first barrel straight towards the large inhuman hulk. The pellets peppered the shape's chest, and did not do much of else, for the shape's skin was incredibly thick and resilient. All the buckshot could really do is leave a flesh wound and make the shape grunt in agitation. The man was in utter disbelief that his shotgun did not even faze the monstrosity that was now taking steps toward him and his wife, making the house shake as he went.

"THIS ISN'T HAPPENING!" the wife cried as her husband lifted his gun once more and prepared to fire.

_**BAM**_

Once again the buckshot flew out of the barrel, peppering the beast and leaving only a flesh wound. It did not halt his advance in the slightest. What it did do was make the shape angry, for he let a low inhuman groan escape his throat before lifting up one of his mighty hooks and swiping the shotgun out of the man's hand, nearly taking is arms with it. The shotgun flew across the room and into the fire, its barrels bent and cracked by the force of the shape's mighty swing. Now that he was unarmed, the man was truly terrified, but this time he didn't even try to hide it. He turned toward his hysterical wife with wide fearful eyes and said nothing. He grabbed her arm and ran out of their burning home and away from the menacing shape.

While the flames from the fire still gave of an intense heat, even away from the fire, the couple was shivering in their shoes. The marauders surrounded them, as the shape shuffled out of the burning house and stopping a few feet behind them. They had nowhere to go now, no escape. The marauders chuckled amongst themselves as they looked on at the helpless couple, just as the hooded man dismounted the Zebstrika he was on, and walked over to the couple, his tall muscular six foot frame towering over the both of them. "So this is the kind of respect you show this here land" the man said as he shook his head in disgust "you bring your damn southern ideas of 'equality for the negro' and 'industry is gonna restore the north', but never once did you stop and think that us northerners don't want that! We spilled our blood on this here ground trying to protect our livelihood and the ideals that made this nation legitimate. But no...yall had to come down here and deal the final blow to this once great land. All started with that Constitution, putting power into the fed's hands. Fooled us all with your Bill of Rights, but that was just a façade wasn't it. Broke your promises one too many times, favored the big business man down south and let us northern folk to fend for ourselves wit your damn tariffs. Then when we saw where you tyrants were leading this nation, we wanted out, we wanted to secede and create our own nation to preserve those ideals, but you couldn't let that happen. Brought your soldiers here to kill fellow Unovians, destroy our livelihood, take away our rights that your Constitution supposedly gave us. Destroyed our culture and economy, and now to add insult to injury, you freed the niggers from their chains. Now you want to give them coons the same rights as the white man, to intermingle with us and breed with us. To truly destroy the white race and the ideals of the Unovian's that live inside of us. People like you are traitors to the white face and liberty. You deserve no quarter. The only thing you deserve is nothing but unrelenting rage! Fuck you, ya nigger lovin Yankee devils!"

The hooded man shouted the last part and unsheathed the Calvary Sword on his side, and swung it down onto the man's right arm, right below the elbow. The slash was at an angle, so the wound was slightly slanted allowing one to see the man's drooping blood stained skin, the severed bone, and the tender red meat inside. However, it did not matter how you 'cut' it, the end result was the same; his arm was separated from his body, the wound gushing and squirting out crimson blood all over the hooded man's clothes and sword before falling to the floor.

The man screamed out in pain as he dropped to his knees, causing his wife to scream in horror as well. She tried to hold him up so he wouldn't fall to the floor, but her effort were in vain. As she cried and sobbed, pleading with god to get them both through their predicament, the hooded man had one of the marauder's throw him two nooses, which he promptly did. Now armed with the nooses, the hooded man approached the couple...

"Oh Carter you poor thing!" the woman sobbed as she held onto her husband slowly going into shock "don't leave me, p-please don't leave-AHH!"

The woman was cut off by the hooded man wrapping a noose around her neck and securing it tightly, before doing the same to her husband. "Get these Yankee traitors over to that there tree and string em up!" the hooded man said as he pointed to a tree in the distance. The marauder nodded, and the hooded man dragged the couple by the nooses, over to the marauder and handed him the ropes. The marauder grabbed it, and slapped his Zebstrika with a holler to make the electric type gallop toward the tree, dragging the choking couple as he went. The other marauders soon followed while the hooded man walked back to his Zebstrika, and slowly got onto the saddle. He took his time, allowing himself to get comfortable, and getting a nice good grip on the reins before looking toward the shape and saying "come on now, it was a hell of a lotta work comin down here. Time for us to reward ourselves with a good show."

The shape grunted in reply as he began to slowly lumber behind the hooded man and the Zebstrika trotting toward the marauders as they hung the couple on the dead willow tree with a sign that read "This is what happens when you 'hang' out with niggers!"

Once the couple was hanging from the tree, the group looked on as their bodies swayed with the wind. Blood continued to leak from the man's stump as the marauders laughed and threw various sticks and stones at the lifeless couple, even firing rounds into the dead flesh. Soon however, the marauders grew tired of this and stood still to admire what they had done. The hooded man looked with fire in his eyes at the dead couple. To him, it was nothing but a small victory. The death of two Yankees wasn't much, but his philosophy was that every little thing counted. Small acts wore down the rock, and this was no different. However, the hooded man wasn't keen on just wearing down the rock...he wanted to absolutely obliterate it, and he had a plan to do just that.

"Come on everyone, let's get on outta here. There's much more work that needs to be done."

* * *

><p><span><strong>Nuvema Town, July 4th 1876<strong>

**The Early Morning Hours...5:00**

The sky was cloudy and gray, occupied by small flocks of Pidove that chirped sleepily among the somnolent atmosphere. This foreboding overcast blanketed the small town of Nuvema in a unhelpful drowsy veil that kept the townsfolk asleep in their beds well until 8:50. This normally was not a problem, for the summers in Unova tended to be stifling to almost unprecedented heights with each coming year, so a temperate one was a nice change that most would not complain about ever, but today it was a problem. Today was the 100th anniversary of Unova's declaration of independence from the Fiore Region. Of course with such an important day comes the burden of it being a very busy day as well, and the town needed to wake up early to get things done. The cool weather was not helping, especially for a kind, humble, somewhat absent minded young Irish-Unovian teenager with brown hair, a delicate childlike face, and innocent brown eyes. This teen went by the name of Hilbert, Hilbert McAlister.

Hilbert like many in Nuvema was born and raised in Unova, but whose parents where born in Ireland (an island off the western coast of the Fiore), and came to Unova during the Great Potato Famine that lasted from 1845 to 1852. Of course, since Hilbert did not grow up in Ireland, he really had no ties to the place (although he had a slight Irish accent passed down by his mom). He was a red blooded Unovian, and loved the country with all his heart. He was grateful for all it gave him: A creaky roof over his head (a roof so poorly constructed that it could collapse at any given moment), food and water to give him life and energy (the food was usually very old and way past its due, while the water was pumped from outside the old run down home he and his mom lived in), and of course the greatest gift of all...freedom. He was freeto be whatever he wanted in life, granted a lot of opportunity was not something given to his lower class ass, meaning he would most likely be a farmer, or factory worker if he went into the big city, but at least he had a choice...of course another option for the young man was to become a pokemon trainer and travel throughout Unova, but Hilbert really did not want to leave his poor mom all alone. Despite all this, Hilbert did not have fanatical devotion to the nation, and could see it had its share of faults: wealth gaps, unsafe working conditions, unsanitary living conditions, misogyny, racism, social Darwinism, and good 'ol greed to name a few.

Hilbert didn't like to pay too much mind on all those problems though, his mind really couldn't take so much grim information. Besides, it wasn't affecting him at his current age, especially at this moment as he laid in his warm comfy bed with the covers up to his neck, wearing his thin grey two piece pajamas. Yes his warm bed was the perfect haven against the moderately cold temperature in his room and outside. Yes it was a peaceful morning, and there was still plenty of time to sleep and relax. The crops outside could wait, especially on such a fine day. This time was for him, and nothing was going to-

_**KNOCK**_

_**KNOCK**_

_**KNOCK**_

_**KNOCK**_

Hilbert's eyes flew open at the hearing of such a loud and sudden commotion. He lifted himself off of his bed to be greeted by the familiar Irish accented, feminine voice of one of his closest friends...albeit a very energetic and ditzy one.

"Hilbert!" the voice yelled with joyful enthusiasm "come on and wake up, Miss Juniper has exciting news!"

"Bianca, do you have any control of the volume of your voice?" said a masculine voice right after the loud feminine voice "you have to be considerate. Maybe he had a long night yesterday and is really tired. You making all this ruckus is quite rude, and I must say-"

"Aw come on, Hilbert is just a big 'ol lazy sleepy head!" the feminine voice interrupted as another round of loud knocking occurred, followed by the female voice yelling "wake up Hilbert, the time for rest is over! We have to go over to Miss Juniper's lab!"

Right after the last bit of yelling, Hilbert heard his mother's door fly open from the hall, followed by loud angrily paced footsteps leading toward the door and making the old wooden floors creak as they went.

_"Oh lord"_ Hilbert thought to himself as he predicted what was about to happen next_ "here comes trouble..."_

Hilbert heard the door fling open and his mother yell "Bianca MacDowell and Cheren Brown, what in god's almighty name are the two of you doing beating on me poor 'ol wooden door!?"

Hilbert heard 14 year oldBianca gasp in embarrassment. She had clearly not though of the possibility of his mom trying to get some extra hours of rest. It wasn't because she was cruel or inconsiderate, she was just a highly jovial and impulsive individual who's mind wasn't wired to consider anything then what was happening around her at the current time. The young 14 year old African-Unovian with her was the complete opposite. Cheren was a very studious teenager who embraced all that had to do with knowledge and higher learning. Of course this lead to him being a very cautious individual who contemplated on the possible consequences of his actions before he acted. While this was a good trait, it did lead to him being slightly cynical at times

"Well you two rascals, what do ya have to say for yourselves?"

"Uhhhh...I'm sorry Ms. McAlister?" Bianca replied as she fiddled with her thumbs. Cheren sighed at his friend, and turned toward Hilbert's mom "Ms. McAlister, I give you our deepest apologizes for so rudely disturbing your sleep. Bianca here...well you know Bianca and her infamous impulsive nature, she just wasn't thinking about all the noise she was making, the excitement overwhelmed her, right Bianca?" Cheren said, turning toward the 'flighty' blonde. Bianca looked at him confused, wondering why Cheren was asking her something when he was talking to Hilbert's mom just a second ago, but quickly realized he was trying to get her to confirm to Hilbert's mom that was the reason for her loud greetings.

"Oh uh yes Ms. McAlister, what Cheren said" she said with a wide smile and closed eyes. Hilbert's mom looked at Bianca and shook her head, before giving them both warm smiles. "Since you both have waken me up so_ rudely_, would you like to come in for a bit and have something to fill your stomachs while you wait for HILBERT to GET UP AND HAVE SOME BREAKFAST."

Hilbert knew his mother emphasized the capitalized words as a que to get his ass up, dressed, and into the kitchen to have some breakfast, and he didn't waste any time. He quickly put on his undergarments, ragged gray slacks, a black long sleeved vest with a dark blue frock coat over his vest. He slipped on a pair of his old ragged loafers, the only shoes he had, and grabbed his trusty dark red bowler hat from the lone nightstand in his room, and placed it atop his head. Once he was dressed and ready, he rubbed down the creases in his coat and fixed the collar of vest before exiting his room to have breakfast with his mom and friends. He walked down the creaky wooden hall, and soon found himself in the kitchen/living space.

"HILBERT!" Bianca shouted as soon as she saw Hilbert. Hilbert looked toward her and Cheren with a friendly smile. He saw that Bianca was wearing a light green tea gown that tried its best to hide her large bosom, but could not fully conceal it, leaving a tell-tale mound on her chest. Resting on her silky blonde hair, was a matching light green poke bonnet. Cheren on the other hand wore ragged black trousers that went up to his ankles, a baggy white long sleeve shirt with a blue unbuttoned sack coat. On his face he wore a pair of spectacles with a black rim, given to him by Miss Juniper about five years ago. His hair like most blacks was dark in color, but unlike most African-Unovians, his hair was straightened and not curly. In fact, it partially covered his ears and forehead. Hilbert gave his mom a hug and a kiss with a greetings of "good morning," before finding a seat at the table with his friends and tipping his hat at them both. "Top of the morning to the both of you, now I'm mighty curious to know why you were stirring up a ruckus outside" he looked toward Bianca "and when I mean you, I mean you Bianca."

"I'm sorry Hilbert, tis just that I'm so bloody excited!" Bianca proclaimed "I just can't wait!"

"For what?" Hilbert asked, half giggling. "She doesn't even know, none of us do" Cheren said as he looked toward Hilbert "all she heard was Miss Juniper wants to speak to us before the firework display this evening. Now knowing Miss Juniper, I'm excited as well, but when you don't even know what it is, how can you be excited? What if it's chores to help set up the damn fireworks? That isn't something to get excited about, but Bianca here-"

"I think that's exciting" Bianca interrupted "just imagine...us the ones to help set up the fireworks, we'll be heroes! We'll be the ones known throughout Nuvema to have brought the joyous lights of the grand noise poppers to them and their families!"

"Settle down there Bianca" Cheren chuckled "your getting a little too carried away, setting up fireworks is not a heroic task, and even if it was, the ones who created the fireworks would be the ones to thank...No scratch that, the real heroes would be the ones that gave their lives so we could have this joyful day."

"Oh I know" Bianca pouted "it just sounds nicer and more exciting the way I said it."

"Here you go you little brats" Hilbert's mom said playfully, interrupting the conversation as she placed plates holding a loaf of stale bread for each of the kids, as well as three cups filled with rainwater collected about three days ago from the summer showers. They all thanked her kindly, and began to eat.

"Mighty good mother" Hilbert said as he took a bite out of his loaf, and took a quick sip from his glass before looking toward Bianca "so when does Miss Juniper want us to see her?"

"Anytime, as long as tis before the evening" Bianca replied matter-of-factly. Hilbert stopped eating and frowned. "So we have plenty of time, but you just chose to come over here and disturb my sleep when it didn't need it?"

Bianca nodded her head vigorously. "Sure did!" she said happily, before realizing her mistake and making her smile disappear "oh I hadn't really thought about it like that..."

"I did" Cheren added "but she grabbed me by my arm and dragged me over here before I could protest...and even if I did, she probably wouldn't hear me on account of the excitement clouding her brain at the time.

"Sorry..." Bianca apologized with her head down. "Ah whatever" Hilbert breathed as he finished his loaf "what's done, tis done. Tis all in the past now, so there's no gain in fretting about it now."

Bianca looked up and smiled "thanks Hilbert."

"Well if that's the case..." Hilbert's mom said as she joined the conversation once more "that means you all have plenty of time to help out with the crops. Go on now, you've all got plenty of work to do, but I'm sure you can get it all done well before the evening arrives."

"Yes Ms. McAlister" Cheren said without complaint.

"Yes Ms. McAlister" Bianca said without complaint

"_'Groan'_ oh do I have to?" Hilbert complained.

"You're darn right you have to" Hilbert's mom replied "now go get to work."

* * *

><p><span><strong>Nuvema Town, July 4th 1876<strong>

**Miss Juniper's Lab...8:21AM**

The Juniper Lab, a large Victorian three story with a large emphasis on Gothic Revival; pointed roofs, bay windows, and a projecting porch. It was an anomaly in Nuvema Town, a city littered by poor run down homes and people, it stood above them all as a triumphant symbol of quality Unovian architecture in even the most poor areas of Unova. The interior of the home was heavily furnished with the most expensive and exquisite furniture, all created by hand in the art nouveau art form. However, while most rooms in the house were like this, one was entirely different. This large room that resided in the first floor. It was spacious and houses all sorts of scientific and mechanical apparatus, as well as piles of notes and books regarding the Biology of pokemon. The reason for this room to contain so much scientific equipment was because it was Miss Juniper's lab. Miss Juniper herself, a beautiful woman in her early thirties, blessed with a warm motherly personality, the wisdom of age, and the body as hot as hell itself. Her light brown shoulder-length hair was kept up with a bun, and her eyes were a magnificent shade of cerulean. Resting on her curvaceous frame was a black dress with a bustle in the rear of the overskirt. At the current time, she was occupied at one of her chairs, reading the daily newspaper intently.

_"The Unova Times: Headline-Progressive Couple hung by their necks in Driftveil. In the early morning hours of the 3rd, local law enforcement found the bodies of a couple hanging from a tree on their property. While the names are not given, the two were both confirmed to be male and female. The attack seemed to have occurred well into the night, around the twilight hours. It appeared the assailants came on Zebstrika-back, before burning their house down. The assailants then severed the man's arm, and proceeded to hang the couple. A note was left on the body that read "Nigger-lovers love to 'hang' out." Because of this message, it is believed the KKK is to be involved in this heinous crime, although it is not certain at this time."_

"Oh my god" Miss Juniper gasped as she read the headline "what brutality! H-How can people be so evil?"

Miss Juniper dropped the newspaper onto the desk and shook her head in disgust "we humans have come so far, yet we still can't see each other as equals..._'sigh'_ the folly of man..."

Just as Miss Juniper said this, she heard her front door burst open, and footsteps slowly get louder as they approached the door leading to the lab. Then that door opened, and in stepped a young girl of about fourteen years of age with long black hair, green eyes, and a pretty face. She wore a thin shirt with a male tweed jacket over it. On her legs were shorts made from denim pants that had been cut about upper thigh high. She was a petite young thing, very frail and seemed to be troubled. Miss Juniper stood up, and walked over to the girl.

"Why hello Jamie, what brings you over here?" she asked the shaken teen. Jamie who had her head down, looked up toward Miss Juniper. "Miss Juniper, I-I think I changed my mind about that task you wanted me to complete...I-I want to do it."

Miss Juniper was taken aback by Jamie's sudden change of heart. She placed one fist under her chin, and looked at Jamie like a mother would with her hurt child "Jamie, what's going on? Why this sudden change of heart?"

Jamie looked away from Miss Juniper, and toward the floor. "I just...I just can't stay at that house anymore, I need to get away...I just...damnit I just can't stay in that house anymore Miss Juniper, I-I need to get away from it all. So I'm here to ask you if I can still complete that task you asked of me...I'm ready to do it."

Miss Juniper sighed, and walked over to one of the desks in the room that contained piles of notes, a fern in a pot, three mechanical hunks of metal, and three metal spheres with a hinge on the back so it could open up. There was no color, for the spheres were a new invention, created in the past seven years or so. The spheres, known as pokemon containing devices, or pokeballs, held creatures known as pokemon. Miss Juniper grazed the pokeballs steel surface lightly with her finger, and looked toward the troubled fourteen year old "Jamie, I'm sorry but...that job has been filled, I found three others that are willing to go complete this task for me. In fact, they are coming later on today to pick up their pokemon, and..." Miss Juniper picked up one of the rectangular hunks of metal "their pokedexes. I'm afraid there is nothing I can do..."

"Really..." Jamie said sadly as she slumped weakly onto a chair "but, but..."

"Look I don't want you to be unhappy, and you know that I don't want you in that house, what with your father and his narrow minded view of women and their place in society" Miss juniper said that last bit with a dose of venom "but I have no more dexes or starters for you..."

"I understand" Jamie said sadly, and began to get up off the chair, but Miss Juniper pushed her down lightly "but, you don't need to do a task for me just to get away from the house. Now I'm not saying you should go on and run away from home, but if you really can't stand living their anymore, then you need to do what you think is best for you. Tell you what, I'll give you a pokemon, not a starter, but a pokemon nonetheless."

"Really!" Jamie replied more enthusiastically, her heart gaining some of its warmth back. Miss Juniper nodded with a smile and continued "however, if you are going to go off into Unova, you must inform your father. I don't want to be blamed for "putting blasphemous ideas" into your head, or the other things your father has accused me of. So to avoid that, I want you to stand up to your father, and tell him what you want to do in life, and how his idea for your life is not something you want."

Jamie's heart dropped once again. "T-Tell him, I don't know about that..."

"Think about it Jamie" Miss Juniper replied "do what you think is best, but I advise against simply running away. You'll have to face him sometime, no matter how far you run."

Jamie sighed "I understand Miss Juniper, can I at least see what pokemon you have to offer."

"Of course" Miss Juniper replied as she let go of Jamie, and walked toward a trunk on the far left corner of the room. She opened it up, rummaged through it, before standing back up with another steel pokeball in her hands. She walked back to Jamie and handed her the pokeball. Jamie took it into her hand, and slightly shivered at its unexpected cold surface. "Inside of that pokeball resides a pokemon called a Minccino. It is known as the chinchilla pokemon, and is part of the normal type group. This specimen is a female, and I must say, quite curious in nature. Why don't you release her to say hi."

"Okay!" Jamie said enthusiastically as she pressed the button on the front of the pokeball to open it up. Of course it opened, and out came a red swirl of energy that accumulated onto the floor, before becoming a small furry, gray chinchilla-like pokemon with a bushy tail, big adorable ears on the side of her head, a small nose, and big round eyes bursting with excitement and curiosity.

"Mi Mi!" _"What's going on? Where am I? Who is this? Want to play!?"_ Minccino squeaked as she jumped onto Jamie's lap, and started to bounce up and down excitedly. Jamie giggled, and pet the pokemon's soft fur with her fingers, savoring its warm touch on her skin "you weren't kidding when you said she was curious!" she said as she continued to pet Minccino "and she's so soft, I love her!"

"Seems like she really likes you too" Miss Juniper chuckled "so what do ya think? You gonna tell your dad about wanting to go on your own?"

"I really do" Jamie said, stroking Minccino slower as she thought about telling her dad she was going to leave on her own so she didn't have to abide by the life he was setting up for her "but I don't know..."

Just as she said this however, Minccino leapt from her lap, and began to race out of the lab "Min Min!" "Come on, let's go play!"

Jamie and Miss Juniper gasped as they saw Minccino race out the room. "Gah, Minccino come back!" Jamie cried as she got off of the chair she was sitting on, and raced after Minccino. Miss Juniper followed suit, but tripped over her own loose dress, and fell flat on her face. She quickly got up and dusted herself off. "I'm glad no one was here to see that" she told herself, but we all saw it Miss Juniper, we ALL did. She then resumed following Jamie as she chased Minccino.

* * *

><p><em>Outside, a few minutes ago...<em>

After hard field work and labor, the trio of friends (Hilbert, Cheren, and Bianca) were on their way to Miss Juniper's home to see what she had in store for them. As they walked along the dirt road toward the magnificent home of Juniper, the wind beating behind their backs, bringing with it the scent of summer, Bianca passed the time (and annoyed Cheren) by singing a song as they walked.

"We're off to see Miss Juniper, the wonderful Juniper of-"

"That hasn't come out yet" Cheren interrupted before she could finish. Bianca frowned and crossed her arms "my you're no fun, why do ya have to be so serious?" she asked, before a smile came back onto her face "you need to lighten up Cheren, all you do is mope and moan about things and stuff. Everything is about books, set in stone answers, and big words I can't comprehend...or pronounce. Take a breather or two, see that the world isn't just 'Black and White' and have some fun."

"I'm surprised you even know what that saying meant" Cheren countered "and by the way, the world is 'Black and White', because there is a set in stone answer for everything. That answer is science, and although we still have many mysteries in this world, good 'ol science will figure them out."

"There's no give in this guy" Bianca told Hilbert jokingly, before she turned back toward Cheren and placed one arm around his neck, and the other on his shoulder "but I still love the big stubborn pain in the rear!" With that said, Bianca gave him a friendly peck on the cheek, making Cheren move away from her grasp and wipe at his cheek "darn it Bianca, you know I don't like anybody or anything's bodily fluids on my face."

Bianca began to laugh madly "Oh Cheren, how often are you getting bodily fluids on your face!"

Cheren paused, his mind beginning to piece together Bianca's comment, before sighing and shaking his head "what is it with you and such vulgar humor?"

"You ran right into that one!" Bianca giggled some more as she nudged Hilbert "am I right?!"

Hilbert looked at the both of them blankly. "I don't get it" he said matter-of-factly, ignorant of the action Bianca had referenced in his joke. Now it was Bianca's turn to sigh "oh Hilbert, you're so slow sometimes."

"I think it's a good thin he doesn't know what you are talking about" Cheren replied, defending Hilbert's ignorance "in fact, I'm wondering how you know about such an act sexual in nature."

Bianca paused and blushed "...uhhhh, how do YOU know about that act?" Bianca countered "you understood the joke."

"Books" Cheren reminded her, casting aside her accusations of him partaking in the act as well. With nothing else to say, Bianca blushed as Cheren laughed. "Got you didn't I!" he proclaimed as he began to clap and sing "She works hard for the money _'clap clap clap clap,'_ so hard for the money so you better treat her-"

"That hasn't come out yet!" Bianca interrupted.

"The both of you are a peculiar pair" Hilbert muttered as they neared Miss Juniper's home. Hilbert had always loved coming here, it reminded him of a medieval castle. Of course, another reason why he loved coming here was Miss Juniper herself. She was so smart, and very nice. She always had interesting things to teach the lot of them, and the inventions inside her house were mind-boggling (for him at least). Not to mention Hilbert had a small crush on Miss Juniper, nothing too big, he just found her to be very pretty. So as they approached the house, he too became as excited as Bianca was when she had arrived at his house with Cheren.

_**WHAM**_

Suddenly, the entrance to the house flung open as a small furry pokemon with a wide smile burst through the double doors. Bianca and Cheren both gasped, not expecting the sudden appearance of the pokemon. However, Hilbert was not fazed in the slightest. It wasn't because he was fearless or anything like that, it was just because he was a somewhat dim-witted individual. His mind didn't register surprise, only a small cute pokemon jumping towards him. On instinct, he held his arms out and caught the small pokemon. It cuddled warmly into the palms of his hands, and gave him a wide smile. He smiled back and gave the pokemon a pet on the head. "Hi there little fella, what are you doing bursting through doors?"

"Mi Mi"_ "Just playing and having fun, that's all."_

"My, he's a cute one isn't he" Bianca said as she recovered from her initial shock and petted the small pokemon. "You mean she" Cheren corrected as he too recovered from the shock and pet the Minccino "and she is just the cutest!"

_**WHAM**_

The door flew open again, and out came a young, pretty girl with a peculiar outfit, breathing heavily and with a worried expression on her face. Following the girl was Miss Juniper, her long black dress trailing behind her, like ash picked up and strewn about by the wind. As they both saw Minccino resting happily in Hilbert's hands, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank god you all arrived at this time" Miss Juniper said as Hilbert walked up to her and held do Minccino out to her. "Thank you Hilbert, but this Minccino is for Jamie" Miss Juniper said and gestured toward the weird dressed girl. Hilbert nodded and walked over to Jamie. "Here you go ma'am" Hilbert said as he handed Jamie the Minccino. Jamie smiled slightly, and took the Minccino into her hands and recalled her back into her pokeball.

"Well that settles that" Miss Juniper proclaimed, relieved that the situation hadn't gotten out of hand. With the whole ordeal over, Bianca immediately ran up to Hiss Juniper. "HI MISS JUNIPER!" she yelled, giving Miss Juniper a tight hug. She gasped as Bianca's tight grip, and patted her on the head lightly "it's nice to see you too Bianca."

After a moment or so, Bianca loosened her grip, allowing Miss Juniper to get some air into her lungs. Not long after, Cheren walked up to her and held out his hand. "Hello Miss Juniper, how are you today?"

"Just fine Cheren" Miss Juniper replied as she took his hand on shook it "nice to have your always formal greeting, it's a nice contrast to Bianca's spine breaker."

"Hehe, thanks" Cheren said with a smile. Miss Juniper then let go of Cheren, and turned toward Hilbert "and of course there's Hilbert. How are you today?"

Hilbert, who had been staring blankly at Jamie for reasons unkow-ah what the hell, I'll tell you. The guy is absent minded, and after handing Jamie the Minccino, his mind sort of left him, leaving his eyes to be pointed directly at Jamie, making her feel very uncomfortable. However, Miss Juniper's words broke Hilbert from his empty headed daze, and he quickly spun toward her. "Oh hi Miss Juniper, it's nice to see you today."

"It's nice to see you too, and I see you have meet Jamie."

Hilbert looked glanced at Jamie once again, before turning back toward Miss Juniper and nodding. As he did this, Bianca and Cheren greeted the new girl, prompting a shy greeting from Jamie in return. The three friends then turned toward Miss Juniper. Cheren was the first to say something "so Miss Juniper, what's this about you wanting us to come over here?"

"Ah yes that" Miss Juniper said as she opened the door to her house and gestured for everyone to come inside. They did, and soon everyone found themselves in Miss Juniper's lab. Cheren marveled at all of Miss Juniper's inventions, always hoping that she would one day ask him to help her with the creation of such machines, but for the time being he was still too young. Bianca on the other hand looked stupidly at the contraptions, trying her best to process what their functions were. Hilbert...stared blankly at the wall behind Miss Juniper, his mind leaving him once more. Last but not least, Jamie...did her best to stay away from Hilbert, thinking he was very weird indeed, her opinion of him worsened by the fact that he just stared at her while they were outside.

"Now that everyone is here, I would like to reveal why have asked of you three to come...Jamie, you just came here on your own. You see, my life's passion has always been the pursuit of knowledge in the field of pokemon; how they act, where they live, etc. I have come up with an invention that will automatically record field data on any pokemon you come into contact with."

"Wow, that's absolutely amazing!" Cheren said with astonishment and excitement.

"Outlandish!" Bianca proclaimed with an excited squeak.

"Why are you wearing that?" Hilbert asked Jamie as he gazed at her outfit. Jamie hid herself with her arms and gave him a disgusted look, thinking he was checking her out like a weirdo.

"Yes, it is one of the inventions I am the most proud of" Miss Juniper said proudly with her head held high "but as you know, my work requires me to stay here at the lab, so I can't leave this town to go scouring for pokemon to document. You however, you young people have the capability and the time to do this for me. I've already cleared it with your parents well before you knew about this here task, and I'm happy to say they all agreed" Miss Juniper turned toward Bianca "except your dad, but your mom was able to get him to come around to the idea. Of course I can't have you three go out into the world without protection, so I have something special for the three of you..."

Miss Juniper turned around and led the three to a small art nouveau table that carried three steel pokeballs on it. Both Cheren and Bianca gasped in joy as they saw the pokeballs, knowing they were for them. Hilbert looked at them oddly, and then at Miss Juniper with a confused face. Miss Juniper did not notice, and continued. "Inside each of these pokeballs are the three starters of the Unova region: Snivy the grass type, Tepig the fire type, and last but not least, Oshawott the water type. These three pokemon will be with you from the start of your journey, to the end so choose wisely."

"I want the Tepig!" Bianca proclaimed as she reached for the pokeball with the imprint of a flame on it. Before she could grab it, Cheren grabbed her hand and prevented her from doing so. "Wait your turn Bianca, we should let Hilbert choose first. After all, we created the ruckus at his house."

"Oh all right" Bianca muttered slightly disappointed "but please don't choose the Tepig."

"Okay" Hilbert said as he looked at the pokeballs on the table carefully. His eyes darted from each one over and over again. Finally he made his choice. He reached down and grabbed one.

"Ah, I see your choice is..."

* * *

><p><strong>And scene. HA, cliffhanger! Got y'all good didn't I! We'll see what Hilbert chose next chapter. Alright, before I go, I just want to say thank you to my friend <span>Razzorow<span>, Jamie is his OC, and you'll be seeing her for the rest of this story. Also, I do not Pokémon, or the song _She Works Hard for the Money_ (it was referenced in this chapter). I hope you all enjoyed.**


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